This morning, before I woke up, I had a really, really strange dream.

I was… somewhere… work, the hospital, I don’t know.
But I was somewhere that was not my home.
There were a lot of people around that I knew, in a waiting room of sorts.

No, it must have been a hospital, because one of my friends was giving birth. Please note, that on this side of reality, she does not currently have children (nor is she pregnant).
It was strange because there were people in the waiting area that didn’t know her.

It was also strange because I was holding a hard-boiled egg, and I walked to the kitchen/dining area and began peeling it.
Let me tell you, that was the most difficult egg to peel EVER. Chunks of egg came off with the shell, it was super watery on the inside. As I got close to peeling the remaining bits of shell off, I began to panic, and started pulling the white off the yolk.
It was like the yolk wasn’t cooked, and fluid started leaking out all over. I ripped the egg apart, becoming more and more frantic, because – SHIT! My Baby!

Inside this egg, which had become newborn-sized, was a human child. Mine.

I rushed to a nurses station holding this yolk-covered kidlett, screaming that it wasn’t done yet. They, presumably nurses, took this gooey mess and began cleaning, wrapping, and caring for the egg-baby, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Then, abra-cadabra, they give me a swaddled baby and a bottle.

I wandered around for a while, showing off the newborn – my newborn – to the people around me. Some I knew, some I did not.
They kept asking me if my husband had seen the baby yet.
No, he hadn’t. And he wasn’t going to be happy, or excited, or anything. He probably didn’t want to be there in the first place.

I walked over to show him his daughter (this is the first time I had noticed the baby’s gender), and he was indifferent. He read his book calmly in the waiting area and barely batted an eye.

I made my way to my friend’s delivery room to find that it was outside. Or, at least, that how it looked. I put my baby in a bassinet – because one was just sitting there.
She and her husband (side note: she’s not married yet) were standing with their new little one. She said to me that I looked worried, so I told her about the egg baby. She walked over, looked at the girl, held her up and asked if she had a name. Nope, I hadn’t put much thought into it; I didn’t even know I was going to have a baby.

Then I woke up.

Da fuq was that about?!

To clear up any confusion: No, I am not currently pregnant, and yes, I am sure about that.